Notes and Editorial Reviews

Here we have the type of recital that has almost disappeared from the face of the earth: quintessentiallyRead more French performances of quintessentially French music. As an analogy, I should also point out that quintessentially German, Italian, Austrian, Dutch, and British performances have also faded to a precious few. The standardization of both instrumental style and sound has, by and large, imposed a generically pretty but nationally ambiguous style and sound on orchestras, solo musicians, and chamber groups the world over. Heck, we even have a hard enough time coming up with a quintessentially American sound anymore.

But Éric Le Sage and François Salque are indeed throwbacks to at least the 1940s. Salque’s cello avoids the generically rich, dark sort of timbre one hears from most such players the world over nowadays, but has rather a lean, edgy sonority not unlike Pierre Fournier. This does not mean that Salque’s low range lacks depth of tone, just that it’s not a basso profundo sound; it’s more like a basso cantate, which is fine by me. Likewise, Le Sage’s piano plays with light and shade, color and nuance, in a way that, fortunately, has never entirely disappeared from the lexicon of French pianists on record, from Cortot to Thibaudet.

Thus these performances reach inside the music not just in terms of emotional response but also in terms of coloristic response. They do not lack for energy or excitement when the music calls for it, even in such a piece as the op. 69 Romance, yet despite a CD cover that is almost completely black with white and blood-red lettering, their playing is a virtual rainbow. Some modern listeners, more used to the plush generic quality of many musicians nowadays, may find this approach foreign to them or difficult to comprehend, but as the expression goes, “this is the real deal.” As good as the recording of mostly the same music by cellist Ina-Esther Joost Ben-Sasson is (Naxos 8570545), my decision in favor of this release is predicated by exactly the virtues (or, if you prefer, idiosyncrasies) mentioned in the second paragraph. I should also add that Paul Meyer manages to fit in very well indeed in the performance of the Clarinet Trio. You simply can’t sing Italian comic patter like an Italian, you can’t conduct Má Vlast as well as a Czech-born conductor can, and you can’t play French music any better than the French do it.